by Keisha Ervin
“Ahsim,” she called from inside the dressing room.
“What’s good?”
“If I ask your opinion will you give me an honest answer?” she quizzed.
“Haven’t we tried that already today?”
“Please.”
“Depends.”
“On what?” she asked, sliding back the velvet curtain.
Ahsim couldn’t believe his eyes. Every part of him wanted Q in the worst way. Her honey-colored physique had more dips and curves then a roller coaster ride. Q stood in front of the full body mirror with her back to him. Ahsim couldn’t help but notice just how fat her ass was.
“So what you think?”
“It’s a’ight.” He tried to play it cool. Ahsim couldn’t let Q see him sweat.
“Really,” she remarked, shocked.
“You asked for my opinion.”
“Okay,” she smirked, reentering the dressing room.
Q closed the curtain behind her. If Ahsim wanted to play games, she was gonna play right along with him. Q pulled the rubber band from her hair, allowing her hair to fall past her shoulders. The next outfit she tried on was a black, sheer lace babydoll dress. Lightly lined under-wire cups accentuated her breasts, pushing them up just right. Underneath, she wore a matching sheer lace g-string. This time, instead of going barefoot, she placed on a pair of black patent leather four-inch stilettos with a pointed toe.
“You ready?” she asked as the flame he’d ignited burned.
“Yeah,” he answered, unprepared for what he was about to see.
Q pushed back the curtain and posed. Sheer appreciation was written all over Ahsim’s face as he stood up straight and adjusted his dick. There was no denying it. Q had him hook, line, and sinker. All she had to do was the say the word and he’d fulfill her every desire. The curves of her hips were begging to be caressed. Ahsim could visualize himself cupping her breasts while placing erotic kisses from her collarbone to the heartbeat of her clit.
“You like?” She smiled wickedly.
“Ahh . . .” He flicked his hand back and forth, pretending not to be fazed. “You stepped up yo’ game a li’l bit.”
“A li’l bit,” she repeated in disbelief.
“I mean, it look better then the last outfit.”
Displeased with his answer, Q slammed the curtain shut once again. Ahsim was playing to hard to get, but she always caught her prey. She wasn’t going to give up until she had Ahsim on his knees. The final outfit she tried on was a black lace, sheer cutout teddy. There were no straps; just a black string that tied around her neck like a halter.
The halter connected to a lace bra, sheer black material streamed down the center of her stomach. Once the material reached her waist, it turned into a g-string. Q’s goods were out for the world to see, but the only eyes she wanted on her were Ahsim’s. This time, Q didn’t make an announcement as she stepped out. She would allow her body to do all the talking.
Ahsim didn’t even know that she was back in the room until he suddenly glanced up and saw her standing there. Q slowly sauntered toward him. The smell of her Viktor & Rolf perfume enticed his nose. Q was a Playboy bunny, Jet Beauty of the Week, and Eye Candy of the Month rolled up into one perfect woman. Ahsim loved that she wasn’t runway-model thin, but tantalizingly thick in all the right places. Her stomach was as flat as a board, but her titties and ass were more then a mouthful. Q turned her back to his chest and pulled her hair over to the side, revealing her neck. Her plump ass was pressed up against Ahsim’s hard dick. It seemed to get longer by the second.
“You mind untying this for me?” she asked seductively.
Instead of obliging her, Ahsim leaned down, gripped her waist tight, placed his lips on her ear and whispered, “I don’t know what type of game you playin’, but I’m the wrong nigga to fuck wit’, so I suggest you take yo’ pretty ass back into that dressing room and get dressed so we can get the fuck up outta of here.”
Ahsim couldn’t help but nibble and lick her ear just a little bit. The sensation sent shivers down Q’s spine.
“And hurry up,” he demanded, slapping her ass.
Doing as she was told, Q made her way back to the dressing room. She didn’t know what part of the game this was. None of her tricks were working. Ahsim had her sewed up and there was no way she could get out. Ahsim, on the other hand, stood back and marveled at the way her ass cheeks bounced as she walked. It was going to take everything in him not to cross the line and lay it on her.
Part Two
Boogieman
Ahsim lay on his back, asleep in a pool of sweat. He tossed and turned repeatedly but to no avail. The white sheets that lay on top of him clung to his skin like a woman’s grasp during sex. Thoughts of Q invaded his memory’s museum. He’d summoned her there, into his dreams. Inside his nightmares was the only place they could be lovers without consequence.
There he was, standing at the start of a long corridor that seemed to have no end. To the side were rows and rows of mirrors trimmed in gold, going in different directions. He was trapped and it was freezing cold. Ahsim clenched his fist tight and began to walk slowly. With each step, mirages of Q appeared. Inside the mirrors, she floated above a pit of flames. A sinister grin graced the corner of her lips as she reached out for him.
Ahsim was captivated by her scarlet eyes. He should’ve been scared, but she was the most beautiful boogieman he’d ever seen. His conscious told him not to, but he stepped closer. He wanted to be where she was; but the closer he got, the colder he became. The touch of her hand would be the death of him. Ahsim looked down. Q could sense his hesitation.
“Come here,” she said in the sweetest tone.
Ahsim promptly focused his attention on her again.
“I need you,” she whispered as a tear made of blood traced her cheek.
The sadness that filled her eyes made Ahsim want to kiss all of her pain away. Fuck it, he’d played with fire before. Q was a guilty pleasure that, given the chance, he’d forever indulge in. This time nothing, not even the flames, would stop him from being close to her. Ahsim took hold of her fragile hand and stepped inside the burning blaze of fire. Finally, they were together.
Q grasped his face, gazed into his eyes, and smiled. Before Ahsim could realize his fate, her cold lips were upon his. The kiss was sensual; her tongue flicking against his. Then, suddenly, the blood in his veins became ice. The longer the kiss lasted, the harder it became to breathe.
Ahsim desperately wanted to fight, but dying never felt so good. Q had him locked within her web and no matter how hard he tried he would never get out. Just as Ahsim was about to take his last breath, he woke up.
Frantically, he searched the room with his eyes. He was alive. It was all just a dream. Ahsim rubbed his eyes. He had to get Q out of his mind. There was no way he was going to let her cloud his judgment.
Sitting up, he ran his hands down his face and exhaled. His mouth was dry and he needed to take a piss. Ahsim looked down and realized that he needed a fresh set of sheets, too. Pulling the cover from over him, he got up. A newly rolled blunt called his name from the night-stand. Ahsim picked it up and tucked it behind his ear.
It was one of those summer nights that was so hot, the central air alone wouldn’t do. He walked to the window and allowed what cool breeze there was outside to come through. Before he could make it to the bathroom, muffled voices by the pool caught his attention. Ahsim stared out the window in search of where the voices were coming from, but the trees in front of him blocked his view. Able to recognize Q’s voice, he heard her shout, “No.” On impulse, he reached for his gun and headed out the door. Ahsim ran down the steps and went out the back way that led to the pool. As he turned the corner he aimed his gun.
“Don’t move,” he ordered.
Q jumped and spun around.
“Ahsim, what the fuck are you doing?” she yelled, holding a towel in front of her naked body.
“I heard voices. I heard you yell ‘no.’
” His eyes darted around the pool area in pursuit of the other person.
“Are you fuckin’ crazy? Put the gun down. I was singing a fuckin’ song.”
She bent down and picked up her iPod. Ahsim noticed that lying on the ground next to her foot was a platinum ring designed as a crown.
“See, ‘you holdin’ up traffic, green means Go,” she sang.
Ahsim put the safety back on and placed the gun by his side.
“I could’ve sworn I heard you talkin’ to someone.” He continued to search around suspiciously.
“Well, no, I wasn’t.” She rolled her eyes. “I was about to take a swim, like I do every night.”
Q dropped her towel and allowed her toned body to glisten under the moonlight. She’d never been ashamed of her body, so for Ahsim to see her naked was nothing. Ahsim tried to look away, but once his eyes centered on her raspberry nipples it was murder she wrote. Q sneered and sauntered toward the pool. Before Ahsim could blink, she’d dipped into the pool and disappeared under the turquoise water. Never one to miss a good show, he walked to the opposite end of the pool and sat down.
His feet dangled in the water like bait. Ahsim pulled the blunt from behind his ear and lit it. The herbal medicine inside calmed him down on the first hit. Buzzed, he glanced around and soaked up the view. The backyard was reminiscent of a Tuscan villa. It was completely closed in by hundreds of flowers, bushes, shrubs, and trees. Soft yellow lights gave the space a mellow feeling. Five wooden beach chairs and a fire pit sat on the opposite end of the pool, facing him.
There was even an outdoor bed, and a sofa. Q soared through the water, causing a rippling effect to spiral toward him. Unknowingly, she’d become his addiction. He thought of her every second of the day. Ahsim took another pull from the blunt and watched as she swam between his legs. Q came up from the water and placed her hands on his knees. Her long hair clung to the nape of her neck.
What she was about to do was wrong on so many levels, but the urgency of wanting him outweighed any common sense she possessed. She wanted to know what he liked, what he needed, what he wished for. Any fantasy he came with, she’d provide. She’d feed him, fuck him, taste him, suck him, it didn’t matter. Q’s eyes roamed over his physique. The tattoos that covered his chest and arms were pleading to be assaulted with wet kisses. Ahsim read her mind and put his hands under her arms to pull her up.
Beads of water dripped from Q’s body as she gazed into his coffee-colored eyes. His arms were wrapped securely around her waist. The hard bulge inside his hooping shorts caused her clit to twitch. Tired of playing a game of cat-and-mouse, Ahsim pressed his full lips against hers. Q immediately became caught up in the warmth of his mouth. His kiss was spellbinding.
As he rotated between sucking her top and bottom lip, Ahsim manipulated the skin of her back with his fingertips and said, “Let me make love to you.” Q’s body fell limp in his embrace. She had to stop before things went too far, but the folds of her flesh yearned for him to stroke her clit slowly with his tongue. Setting aside the naughty thoughts in her mind, she pushed him back.
“What’s the problem?” Ahsim asked, wanting more.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve never let things go this far. I’m trippin’.” She paced back and forth. “If my husband ever finds out . . .” Her voice shook. “Oh my God, I gotta go.”
Q snatched her towel and ran up the walkway, ashamed. Ahsim stood alone, wondering how things had spiraled out of control. Confused, he walked over to the ring and picked it up. It seemed oddly familiar. He just couldn’t remember where he’d see it before. Determined to find out, he placed it inside his pocket and made his way back inside the house.
The next morning, things were awkward between Q and Ahsim. They barely said three words to one another, and when Sean called to check up on her, Q almost pissed on herself. Along with coke, Sean could sniff a liar from miles away. Ahsim had to choose his words just right, or Sean would be on the next flight home ready to kill both their asses. Thankfully, Ahsim played it cool. Sean didn’t suspect a thing. Q took a look at herself as she stood in front of a full-length mirror.
It was the one Sunday a month she got to see her family. That morning they would be attending services at Unity Chapel Baptist church. It was the same church Q attended as a child, where she used to sing lead in the choir. She had to be on point. Q thought she looked elegant in a white fitted button-up shirt and gold, gray, and tan high-waisted pencil skirt. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up, revealing her gold Frank Muller watch. A thin, gold, three-layered necklace that reached the top of her skirt accessorized the ensemble even more. On her feet, she rocked a pair of gold metallic, watersnake Jimmy Choo platforms.
Q donned her Oliver Peoples shades, grabbed her white, quilted Marc Jacobs bag, and signaled to Ahsim that she was ready to go. Not a word was spoken between them as they headed to Q’s family church. Neither could find the right things to say, although so much needed to be said. Church services lasted two hours. Afterward, the entire family had lunch at Q’s grandparents’ house.
Q hated that her family still lived in the hood. Sean refused to give her any money to buy her grandparents a new home. The north side of St. Louis was filled with violence. Every other day someone got killed. Crackheads roamed the streets at night.
Young black girls fell victim to teenage pregnancy while young boys sold rocks for sneakers. Plus, the fact that her grandparents’ house wasn’t up to par didn’t help much. The roof was caving in, and there were numerous leaks in the ceiling. Anytime there was a heavy rain, their basement flooded. They had no central air. The only relief from the heat came from an air conditioner in their bedroom window.
Her mother wasn’t doing any better. Due to the recession, she’d lost her job and was forced to move in with her parents sharing a room with Q’s brother. It pained Q to the core to know she had the means to help her family but because of her selfish husband she wasn’t able to. Q’s immediate family consisted of her mother, Taylor; seventeen-year-old brother, Jay; grandfather, Ty; grandmother, Earlene; and Great Aunt Erniece. Earlene and Erniece were identical twins. They were seventy-one years old, but still as hip as they were in their younger days. After saying grace, the entire family, including Ahsim and Ralph, sat around the table eating and conversing. The topic of the moment was T.I. and his impending jail sentence.
“Now, that’s some bullshit and you know it, Earlene,” Erniece barked. “The hip-hop police been after T.I. since Trap Muzik. They knew then that what he was spittin’ was the truth.”
“I ain’t say that the police hadn’t been watchin’ him, but the boy shouldn’t been buying all them damn guns. That’s what you get guards like Ahsim for,” Earlene replied. “I gotta give it to him. His li’l ass do be talkin’ that gangsta shit. He say, ‘Just gimme some cocaine and somewhere to slang and I’m straight.’ You can’t tell me that ain’t no real shit right there.” She pounded her hand against the table, amped.
“You know who I like?” Q’s brother Jay jumped in.
“Who?”
“Jay-Z.”
“Aw, yeah.” Earlene put down her fork and closed her eyes. “When I heard that ‘Show Me What You Got’ he had me, baby! Now, he ain’t much on the eye—”
“Nah, he ain’t,” Erniece cut her off.
“But he smart,” Earlene continued.
“Sho nuff,” Erniece nodded. “Banonsay knew what she was doing when she hooked that retarded-lookin’ muthafucka. She said, ‘Fuck good looks; when I’m old, fat, titties hangin’ down to my knees like Aretha, this nigga gon’ be able to take care of me. Feed me all the Popeye’s chicken I want.’ ”
“You got that right,” Earlene agreed, laughing.
“Have you heard his song with John Legend?” Q asked before taking a sip of her lemonade.
“Girl, you know that’s yo’ Aunt ’Niece boo.”
“Talk about a muthafucka that’s fine.” Erniece rolled her neck. “Every time I see him on the televisi
on, my panties get moist.”
“Aunt ’Niece, that’s enough.” Q scrunched up her face as Ahsim laughed uncontrollably.
“Let him come to St. Louis. I’ma be in the front row, wit’ my panties off, swingin ’em in the air. That li’l yellow nigga ain’t gon’ know what hit ’em; and he can dress.”
“Yes, sir,” Earlene concurred. “The man stay sharp.”
“Sharper than a muthafuckin’ switch blade.”
“A’ight, Aunt ’Niece, Uncle Fred gon’ find out you cheatin’ on him and go crazy,” Jay teased, referring to his aunt’s ex-boyfriend.
“Shit.” She screwed up her face. “Boy, please, Fred can kiss my ass.”
“You ain’t gotta front, Aunt ’Niece. We know you still love Uncle Fred.”
“I ain’t thinkin’ about Fred and Fred ain’t thinkin’ about me.”
“So, Ahsim,” Q’s grandfather spoke up. “How do you like guarding my granddaughter so far? I hope she ain’t been too much trouble.”
“Just a little bit,” Ahsim joked.
“Q, you ain’t been giving this man a hard time, have you?”
“Just a little bit.” She looked at Ahsim and smiled.
Being around her family seemed to loosen the tension between them.
“Well, I’m just happy she got somebody to keep her safe,” Earlene commented. “Lord knows that good-for-nothin’ Sean ain’t gon’ do it.”
“Earlene, that’s enough,” Ty ordered.
“Nah, Ty, I got to speak my piece. It’s because of him Q need a guard in the first place. Got all that money and walkin’ around here actin’ like a fool.”
“He look like a goddamn monkey’s ass,” Erniece backed up her sister.
“Smell like one, too.”
“All right, Mama.” Taylor gave them both the evil eye.
“I’m just sayin’—”
“Well, you’ve said enough.”
“All right, all right.” Earlene raised her hand in defeat.